


Not Too Late

by wherethewordsare



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Coma, Descriptions of Injury, Getting Together, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst with Happy Ending, Love Confessions, M/M, Mild Blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 03:28:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29727636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wherethewordsare/pseuds/wherethewordsare
Summary: It might actually kill Jaskier to be on time and Geralt questions if he is too late.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 5
Kudos: 100





	Not Too Late

“I’m coming, I’m coming, sorry!!” Jaskier panted into the phone. Geralt could hear him move around someone as he sprinted. 

“I thought we said 3?” He was teasing. He knew Jaskier was going to be late, he always was. That’s why he told him 3 for a 3:45 movie. 

“I know I know, I just lost track of time! I’m coming across the street now,” There was a scuffling sound like Jaskier nearly tripped.

“Which one?” Geralt spun around slowly, looking across the busy road. 

“Tenth,” there was a hard huff. 

Geralt turned to see a bright jacket sleeve waving at him and he chuckled as he closed his phone. He had been looking at Jaskier but the flash of green caught his eye as a car ran the stale yellow.

Right as Jaskier stepped out into the street. 

“Jask-” Geralt was running before he could stop himself, the loud thud of breaks ringing in his ears as he leapt over jersey wall, his phone already dialing 911.

\--

Three broken ribs, a head injury, internal bleeding, and a list of other minor fractures and bruises a mile long. Geralt sat in an uncomfortable chair, his leg bouncing anxiously as he listened to the doctor in a daze. 

Jaskier was going to be fine. 

He was going to live but there would be a time for recovery and he would need help for a little while. But he was going to live. It was the only thing Geralt clung to as the doctor saw himself out. They had induced a coma for the time being, just to keep him still long enough to get a good look at him, giving his body time to hold still long enough for the scans and tests. The doctor had said that he would come to in his own time but Geralt could always come back later if he wasn’t up to waiting.

He was resolutely not going anywhere. 

He pulled the chair closer to the hospital bed, looking Jaskier over and wincing. There was a nasty cut to his forehead that had left much of his face bruised and the fracture in his wrist would stop him from playing for at least a couple months. He was going to be furious. 

The thought of an angry and pouting Jaskier at not being able to play music made Geralt chuckle a little. He was going to be hell to put up with. 

The thought tightened his chest and he leaned his head against the edge of the bed, sighing. 

“You put me, of all people as your emergency contact?” Geralt asked, not expecting Jaskier to respond. “Though, to be fair, you’re mine too.” He crossed his arms, leaning his chin against it so he could watch Jaskier’s face. 

“You’d think that might mean something, but I don’t-” He looked away, letting the beeps of the heart monitor chirp at him rhythmically. Even in a near coma, Jaskier was filling up the silence that Geralt left behind when he couldn’t find the words. 

“I was planning on maybe seeing if it might have meant something,” he confessed, rubbing at the stubble on his cheek. “Was starting to think maybe I could start letting…” he shrugged, looking back at Jaskier. “You’d be so mad right now if you knew I was actually trying to talk about something at length and you weren’t even awake to hear it.” 

Geralt pushed up from the bed, leaning back into the chair. He covered his face with both hands and groaned. 

“You gotta help me here, Jaskier. I’m not good with words, you know I’m not. But I nearly-” He swallowed thickly before taking a shaky breath. “I saw you get hit by a car today and all I could think was ‘It’s too late, I’ve lost him and he’ll never know,’” he hung his head, reaching out with one hand and tentatively wrapping it around Jaskier’s. 

“You were almost gone and I’ve wasted so much time not saying anything.” The fear he had pushed down earlier, the adrenaline that had launched him into action seemed to buzz under his skin again and he felt like he would shake apart with it. “Jaskier, I’ve loved-” he wet his lips, staring at the floor. “I love you, I have for a really long time and I need to tell you because I can’t-” he squeezed Jaskier’s hand lightly. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you and you never knew.” 

Geralt slouched forward, all his energy draining as he said it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the aching that sinched in around his ribs. There were fingers in his hair, brushing back the strands that had fallen out of his ponytail when he had fidgeted with it in the waiting room. They pressed gently into his scalp, nails dragging over his skin. It was a comfort he hadn’t realized he had needed. 

There were fingers in his hair. 

_ There were- _

Geralt sat up quickly, looking at the bed. Through the bruising and the swelling, and the low shitty light of the hospital, Jaskier was giving him a small tired smile. 

“Hey there, you,” he rasped, wincing. 

“Uh-” Geralt fumbled for the water on the side table the nurse had brought, his fingers struggling to hold the straw steady for Jaskier.

He watched as his friend took a tentative sip, grimacing as the straw brushed against his split lip, but he still smiled up at Geralt. His eyes were glassy and his hair was a mess from where they had haphazardly washed out the blood. He was a ruin of his former self and it made Geralt want to crawl into the bed beside him and curl around him and make sure nothing like this ever happened again. 

“I know,” Jaskier said simply, the small chuckle he tried for died with a groan but his hand reached blindly for Geralt’s. “Well, that is to say, I had hoped but I thought I’d give you time to say it yourself.” His features seemed over soft with pain killers. But his fingers held around Geralt’s with a vice grip. 

“What?” 

“I love you, too. I’m sorry I was late to the movie,” he hummed, his eyes closing again for a moment. He looked like he was trying to gather his thoughts together.

“I- What?” Geralt repeated. His face felt hot and he was suddenly aware of how close he had been sitting to the bed. 

“I said I’m sorry I was late to-” 

“No, the other thing. Before that.” Geralt leaned in, his eyes searching Jaskier’s face. 

“Oh, sweetheart. I love you too, always have.” Even through the pain and the drugs and the day from hell, Jaskier of course had found the words so much more easily than Geralt could have thought possible. 

He crawled into the bed next to Jaskier, careful not to jostle him too much. That tension in his chest released the moment Jaskier’s head hit his shoulder, an arm bulky with bandages and gauze came around his middle, pulling him closer. 

Geralt pressed his nose into Jaskier’s hair, ignoring the distinct hospital smell as he hummed, letting himself settle for the first time since the accident.

“You weren’t late,” he started to chuckle.

“What?” Jaskier was starting to slip back under the meds and Geralt could feel him shake himself back awake enough for this. 

“I lied. The movie was at 3:45. You would have been just in time,” He kissed Jaskier’s temple gently, curling around him.

“Leave it to you to start our relationship like this,” Jaskier slurred. He was out before Geralt could say anything to that. So he stayed and waited, keeping Jaskier safe in his arms. 


End file.
